


Promises Within The Air (Drowning In Love Affair)

by IndigoNight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Chastity Device, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power bottom!Tony, Rimming, Size Kink, sub!Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-16 20:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14173254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoNight/pseuds/IndigoNight
Summary: Tony has to go out of town for the week; he makes sure that Steve is going to be very, very pleased to see him when he gets home.





	Promises Within The Air (Drowning In Love Affair)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the MCU Kink Bang based on the super awesome art prompt by [chaosdraws](http://chaosdraws.tumblr.com/). Art on tumblr [here](http://chaosdraws.tumblr.com/post/172590148631/the-first-brush-of-tonys-ass-cheek-against-the) and also at the end of the fic. Thanks to chaos for the awesome prompt, and to the mods for putting this event together.
> 
> Title from The Chainsmokers' song "Last Day Alive".
> 
> Enjoy!

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Tony says as soon as Steve connects the video call. Steve had to fumble for his phone to do it, very nearly dumping his phone into the toilet before he could get a good grip on it. He’s fresh from his morning shower, wearing just a pair of boxers, his hair still unstyled and a toothbrush clamped between his teeth.

Tony, on the other hand is looking ridiculously luxurious in what appears to be a short silk robe, lounging on a massive bed. It maybe says something about Steve that the first thing he notices is the fact that the bed definitely looks slept in and he feels no small amount of relief to know that Tony hadn’t been up all night working like he all too often does.

“Morning,” Steve answers, as soon as he’s collect himself to prop his phone up against the mirror and spit out his mouth full of toothpaste. “How’s California?"

“Woefully boring,” Tony laments, but there’s an underlying note to his voice that almost sounds smug. Steve only listens distractedly, focused on rinsing his mouth out and splashing his face with water out of habit.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find some way to keep yourself entertained,” Steve answers absently, and then decidedly doesn’t think too hard about all of the ways that Tony might accomplish that and the various amounts of damage control that might become necessary afterward. “I can’t talk, I’ve got a meeting in fifteen minutes and I’m already running late.”

“I know,” Tony says. Steve hears the smooth slide of silk on silk and has to look up to see Tony stretching lazily across the mussed sheets. “I just wanted to check in and say good morning.” Tony is grinning.

Tony is grinning like the goddamned Cheshire Cat, and Steve sees it about half a second too late to brace himself.   


A grunt forces its way out of Steve’s lungs and he has to make a wild grab for the countertop in front of him to keep his knees from buckling. A low hum fills the room, but Steve can barely hear it around the blood suddenly rushing through his veins at hyperspeed as his nerve endings in a very specific spot light up in response to the onslaught of vibration.

“Good morning,  _ gorgeous _ ,” Tony says again with an entirely different inflection and no small amount of delight. He draws out his o’s for several beats longer than usual and his grin is growing.

“Fuck!” Steve swears. He breathes harshly through his nose and he has to close his eyes as he struggles to adjust to the sudden onslaught of sensation. The marble of the countertop is starting to creak dangerously, but even though Steve’s managed to lock his knees against the possibility of falling over, he still can’t risk letting go. Not unless Tony gives him permission…

“Come on, babe, show me,” Tony croons, discordently soft and sweet and it makes Steve’s breath stutter in his chest - god, he is so gone for Tony it isn’t even funny.

Steve has to take another careful breath before he can uncurl his fists from around the edge of the countertop. He takes a couple of steps back, guessing that Tony is probably tapped into JARVIS’ cameras and isn’t just relying on his phone for the view. Carefully, so carefully, Steve peels down the top of his boxers until he is on full display.

Tony whistles appreciatively. “That is a masterpiece,” he says, “really, just a magnificent piece of engineering. You know, it isn’t all that often that I impress myself anymore, but that is-”

Steve barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. But even harder to resist is the urge to touch himself, so he tucks his hands behind his back - practically at parade rest - to keep himself from getting into trouble. He does look though, his eyes irresistibly drawn downward toward the sight of his cock encased in an ostentatious red and gold cage. Steve had been caught between laughter and shock when Tony first showed him the cage; a sheath of predictably sleek red metal attached to a thick gold ring that holds tight around the base of his cock and balls. It’s been a couple of months since Tony created it, and they’ve played around with it before, but Steve had been hesitant to agree to wearing it for the week Tony is away dealing with Stark Industries business in Malibu. He is currently caught between deeply regretting letting Tony talk him into it, and being absolutely thrilled.

Tony has only been gone for about thirty-two hours, but Steve has been inescapably aware of the foreign object between his legs the entire time in a thrilling way - which no doubt had been at least part of Tony’s intention. The other part of his intention, which frankly, Steve should have guessed at sooner, is evidently to entertain himself by tormenting Steve mercilessly. It had been distracting enough before, but now that Tony’s turned on the vibrating feature it’s all Steve can do to stay on his feet. Tony had designed the cage himself; Steve has no idea how the mechanics actually work and it’s probably better that he doesn’t ask, but the vibrations are moving in an undulating rhythm up and down the length of his shaft in a manner that promises to leave Steve wrecked within minutes. Tony knows - all too well, perhaps dangerously well in this particular circumstance - exactly how sensitive Steve is and precisely the right ways to drive him mad.

“God, Tony,” Steve says, his words coming out rough with the effort to both stay on his feet and have anything approaching a coherent conversation. “If you keep this up I won’t last the day, let alone the week.”

Tony smirks. “I thought you liked a challenge,” he teases. There’s an edge to Tony’s voice that tells Steve that if they were in the same state there’s a good chance Tony wouldn’t last the day either; Steve appreciates it, but it doesn’t help the situation any.

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t enjoy it,” Steve grunt and Tony laughs.

“You know the rules,” Tony says, and the glee in his voice is bordering on unholy. “Be good and it’ll be worth it."

“I’m going to hold you do that,” Steve warns. Tony turns off the vibrations and finally Steve can take a deep breath, closing his eyes as he works to calm his racing heartbeat. “This is going to be a very long week.”

***

As far as Steve is concerned, it ends up being the longest week in history. Tony calls him every morning and turns the vibrator on for at least ten minutes - just long enough that by the end of the week Steve starts to think he may actually die, just a little.

When JARVIS finally gives the word that Tony is a few minutes away from the Tower, Steve finds himself rushing out to the landing platform to greet him. Tony barely even waits for the armor to be fully removed before he’s pulling Steve in close for a searing kiss. It’s hot and wet and far more dirty than Steve would usually allow outside of the privacy of the penthouse, but it’s like a fire has been lit under his skin, slow but persistent, sparking and flaring even hotter everywhere Tony touches. They’ve had enough practice by now that Steve knows exactly the right angle to tilt his neck, the perfect degree to which he has to bend to reach Tony’s lips.

“Is dinner ready?” Tony asks after what is simultaneously an eternity and no where near long enough, pulling back so that Steve can barely keep an arm looped around Tony’s waist. “I’m famished.”

Steve groans, trying to reel Tony back in if only to bury his face in Tony’s neck, to smell his scent and feel the brush of his skin. “You’ve got to be kidding,” he complains.

“It’s been a week. I need real pizza,” Tony insists.

“And I need-” Steve starts to retort before he catches himself, remembering that they’re still out in the open on the landing pad - as far as Steve knows they’re alone, both the landing pad and the common room just inside empty, but living in a building full of spies who love to gossip Steve has learned to be cautious.

Tony laughs, he laughs so hard he nearly doubles over and Steve has to adjust his grip to hold him upright. 

“This is getting less funny by the minute,” Steve warns. He doesn’t actually mean it, except for the part of him that does. The anticipation has been winding him tighter and tighter all day long and now that he finally has Tony in his grasp it’s all he can do not to just throw the shorter man over his shoulder and carry him straight to bed.

Tony makes a half hearted attempt to look sympathetic, but he can’t stop his lips from twitching. He pats Steve’s chest consolingly. “Come on, the pizza should be waiting for us inside. I’ll eat quick, I promise.”

Of course, no sooner had pizza crossed the threshold of the Tower than the entire team had begun to appear in the common room. Steve tries very, very hard to sit still and quiet while the team buzzes around them, asking about Tony’s trip and discussing… various… other things; honestly, Steve doesn’t try too hard to keep track of the conversation. He sits next to Tony and keeps his hands to himself by sheer force of will - though Tony doesn’t extend the same courtesy, occasionally brushing his fingers along Steve’s outer thigh under the table or leaning in just a bit too close. If any of the others notice - which they do, Steve is certain of that - they’re polite enough not to mention it. For now.

Steve nearly shouts with relief when Tony finally - fucking  _ finally _ \- bids everyone goodnight and heads upstairs. He can distinctly hear a muffled wave of giggling behind his back as he trails Tony out of the room, but he decidedly ignores it. All he can think about is the fact that he’s about to have Tony all to himself behind a locked door. That Tony is finally going to take this fucking cage off of him, and then touch him. Tony is going to touch him  _ a lot _ .

They’re silent in the elevator on the way up to the penthouse - Steve is too wound up to talk, and Tony is having too much fun torturing him. No sooner have the elevator doors closed behind them than Tony turns the vibrator back on and Steve drops to his knees. Tony stands there, immaculately dressed in a suit that costs enough to make Steve dizzy except for his hair which ruffled and disordered from the Iron Man helmet and it just feels  _ wrong _ to Steve to stay on his feet; kneeling is better, kneeling feels right. 

Tony smiles down at Steve, his left hand still fiddling absently with his phone, as though he might change the vibration settings at any moment. But his smile has gone soft around the edges, warmth in his eyes, and he reaches down to run his fingers through Steve’s hair. Steve moans, the sound soft and involuntary. His eyes fall closed and he leans eagerly into Tony’s touch - just that gentle brush of Tony’s fingertips against his scalp is nearly overwhelming, sending a shiver in waves from his scalp all the way down to his toes.

“You did good this week,” Tony says. It shouldn’t affect Steve quite so much, but Tony is rarely so direct with his praise, and in Steve’s current state everything feels magnified by at least a hundred. “I really thought I’d break you yesterday.”

“You almost did,” Steve admits, his voice rasping in his throat as he sways in closer to rest his cheek against the soft fabric of Tony’s pant leg.Tony had spent nearly half an hour the night before tormenting Steve by adjusting the intensity of the vibrations up and down until Steve had been nothing but an incoherent pile of nerve endings. And, of course, because Tony isn’t just an engineering genius, he had left Steve with the power to end it any time he wanted. There would have been consequences, and a significantly less satisfying evening now that Tony is finally home, but Steve  _ could have _ chosen to take the cock ring off. He’d been tempted, for sure, but the more Tony teased him the more Steve’s natural stubbornness kicked in; and besides, he knows Tony is going to more than make it up to him.

The elevators slide open with a soft ping that makes Steve startle slightly - it’s just so comfortable kneeling at Tony’s feet. But Tony urges him to his feet and he stumbles directly toward the bedroom, Tony leading him along. 

“You know the drill,” Tony says, nudging Steve in the small of his back.

Steve does. He immediately shucks his clothes, nearly ripping all of the buttons off of his shirt in his haste but he retains the presence of mind to at least toss the discarded clothes in the direction of the hamper once they’re off. Then he kneels on the clear space of carpet next to the bed, folding his arms neatly behind his back. He feels dizzy, hypersensitive and overwhelmed with anticipation already.

Meanwhile, Tony takes his time. He saunters across the large bedroom at a leisurely pace, taking off his watch and loosening his tie. He doesn’t even look at Steve, which is part of the game, frustrating and thrilling all at once. He wanders into the en-suite bathroom, returning almost five minutes later with his shirt hanging loose and unbuttoned around his shoulders and his pants undone. Combined with his helmet-ruffled hair he looks debauched already and Steve knows that Tony is just as eager as he is. When Tony’s gaze finally falls on Steve - naked and waiting submissively for him - there’s something hungry, something almost predatory in his gaze that sends a shiver all the way up Steve’s spine.

“How badly do you want it right now?” Tony asks, and there’s no smirking any more, no teasing. His voice has gone firm, commanding, and Steve’s spine straightens automatically. 

“Please,” Steve says, knowing it’s the response Tony is expecting but also meaning it with the utmost sincerity. He takes a deep breath and it shakes in his chest. It’s a struggle to keep his hands clasped behind his back; he’s never wanted to touch himself so badly in his entire life, not even when he was a teenager. “Please, Tony, I want you to touch me. I need it.”

Tony hums as he comes to a stop in front of Steve, staring down at him. “I’m going to wring you dry,” he says, not a threat or a promise, merely a statement of fact. “When I take that cage off of you, you’re going to come inside of me so many times that both of us lose count. But you have to do a little bit more to earn it first.” 

Steve nods. “Anything,” he promises. He watches as Tony unrolls one of his fine silk ties, his eyes lingering irresistibly on the way the smooth, delicate fabric slides through Tony’s callused fingers. Not that it really matters, but for a half a second Steve gets distracted trying to remember if it’s the same tie Tony had been wearing earlier or a different one from Tony’s nearly inexhaustible collection; he can’t, which is just proof of how thoroughly Tony’s succeeded in winding him up and stripping him of his senses.

“Stand up,” Tony orders, and Steve obeys instinctively. He holds still while Tony winds the tie around his arms, restraining them behind his back - it’s restraint in theory only, really, but that’s part of the point. It actually takes more effort for Steve  _ not _ to tear free of the silk cloth; it isn’t restraint, it’s proof of submission. From this point forward, every second that the tie remains around Steve’s wrists is Steve handing himself over into Tony’s power willingly. Just like with the cock cage, Steve could choose to end it any time he wants to, but he won’t. He’ll give himself to Tony, wholly and completely, and love every second of it.

Steve stands still, waiting with every ounce of patience he can dig up, while Tony finishes striping. He tosses his unbuttoned dress shirt aside carelessly and simply shoves down his pants so that he can step out of them. Steve pivots to keep his eyes on Tony as the smaller man moves over to the bedside table, but it isn’t until Tony bends to open the bottom drawer where they keep the lube that Steve sees the bit of black plastic nestled between Tony’s ass cheeks. 

Tony must hear Steve sudden intake of breath because he turns to glance over his shoulder at Steve with a smirk. “Like it?” Tony asks. He remains bent over, spreading his legs enough to give Steve a better view. There isn’t much of the toy visible, but it is undeniably the flat, broad base of a buttplug standing out in stark black against Tony’s pale skin.

“Jesus, Tony, how long have you had that in?” Steve asks. His breath feels tight in his chest at the sight, his blood rushing dizzyingly as his cock makes a valiant effort to get hard despite the constriction of the cage containing it. 

“Put it in just before I left California,” Tony answers. He turns back to the drawer and finishes his mission of pulling out the container of Steve’s favorite kiwi strawberry flavored lube. “Thought it might be a good idea to expedite the process a little bit.”

Steve’s mouth is very dry. The image of Tony spreading himself open and fitting the buttplug inside is playing through his mind, driving out any other thoughts. But followed quickly on its heels is the knowledge that Tony had spent not only the entire flight back from California but also all through dinner with the toy buried deep inside of him.

Steve’s so distracted that he misses Tony climbing onto the bed and settling in on his knees. He turns his back to Steve, his knees spread wide on the silky sheets. “Focus,” Tony warns, no doubt aware of the direction Steve’s mind has wandered off in. Obediently Steve’s eyes snap back into focus, his gaze lingering irresistibly on the silhouette of Tony’s body. Steve will never get tired of the sight of Tony’s naked body, all broad shoulders and thick muscle. Tony’s compact frame allows clothes to easily hide just how fit Tony is, but underneath it all is nothing but defined muscle that takes Steve’s breath away every time.

Tony pops open the cap on the lube, squirting a generous amount onto his own fingers before he reaches back to start massaging the tight muscles clenched around the base of the buttplug. Tony’s twisted around enough so that he can watch his own finger’s progress and Steve is unspeakably grateful for that because it allows him to see the way Tony’s eyes slip closed and his teeth dig into his lower lip as he works his own muscles. The way Tony’s breath hitches and speeds up is audible in the silence of the room, a direct opposition to Steve’s own baited breath as he watches. Tony’s gaze flicks up to Steve’s expression and he grins, fully aware of the effect he’s having on Steve.

“Well?” Tony prompts, wiggling an eyebrow invitingly. “Do I have to play alone?”

Steve doesn’t have the brain capacity left to worry about how undignified he looks as he scrambles onto the bed with his arms bound behind his back. He can’t hold himself back any more. He shuffles across the bed, getting in close enough to steal a searing kiss, Tony’s shoulder digging into his chest from the awkward angle that Steve is in too much of a rush to avoid. Tony laughs against his lips, thrilled by Steve’s exuberance, but he returns the kiss with just as much fervor. “Enough teasing, Tony,” Steve says, and he can’t help the tiniest bit of command slipping into his voice. Tony arches an eyebrow at him, his dark eyes glittering and Steve catches himself enough to add, “please.”

“Watch yourself,” Tony warns, but there’s a smile in his eyes. He scoops a little more lube onto his fingers, working one more pass around the base of the buttplug before gripping it and starting to slowly draw it outward. Tony and Steve’s breaths both catch and studder almost in tandem as Tony’s ass stretches open to release its grip on the slick silicone. Steve watches, mesmerized, as centimeter by centimeter Tony draws the toy out of himself. He’s still pressed up against Tony’s side, able to feel every shiver and gasp second hand as Tony closes his eyes in concentration against the sensation. Tony is hard, his cock pressing into Steve’s stomach as Steve leans over his shoulder to watch the reveal, droplets of precum forming a wet patch against Steve’s skin.

Tony has a lot of toys, but this one in particular Steve knows instantly, and intimately. Honestly, Steve would be a little bit mortified if anyone besides the two of them - and probably JARVIS, but thankfully the AI is pathologically discrete - knew it existed. It’s a perfect replica of Steve’s erect cock. It had been an interesting day when Tony had asked to make a mold of it, but when it comes to bedroom activities Steve has a hard time refusing Tony anything, no matter how strange it might initially seem to him. He certainly doesn’t regret it though. The idea of Tony walking around feeling the sensation of Steve inside him even when Steve is on the opposite side of the country is shockingly arousing, enough that a shiver runs the full length of Steve’s spine and his hips jerk against Tony instinctively.

Tony laughs a little, half humor at Steve’s eagerness and half a huff of exertion as the tip of the toy finally slips fully free of his ass. “I never claimed to have the virtue of patience myself,” Tony admits, not that Steve had actually intended to say anything about it. His gaze is hungry when he turns his face up to meet Steve’s, his lips wet and swollen from where he’d bitten at them during the toy removal process. “This is the only thing that kept me from flying home early days ago.”

Steve leans in and kisses Tony; he can’t not. It’s messy and uncoordinated in Steve’s haste, their teeth clacking together a little too hard, but Tony doesn’t seem to care. He returns the kiss, holding it until they’re both dizzy and breathless. Then Tony shifts, pulling away from where he and Steve have been leaning against each other. Steve almost whines at the loss, but he restrains himself as he watches Tony set the still glistening toy aside on the towel he’d laid out at some point when Steve wasn’t paying attention. Tony then settles himself on his hands and knees, his legs slightly spread to put his soft pink asshole on full display.

Nothing else needs to be said; Steve knows exactly what he’s supposed to do - indicated by Tony’s choice of lube if nothing else - and he’s all too happy to comply. It takes a bit of shuffling, the muscles of Steve’s thighs and core clenching to maintain his balance on the slick sheets without the assistance of his hands, but he manages to shuffle around into the right position without incident. He takes a moment to lean in, to press a soft kiss to the base of Tony’s spine, his lips tracing over the dimples there before he begins to work his way further down. He has every inch of Tony’s body memorized, every scar and dimple, every freckle and secret sensitive spot. He trails kisses over the curve of Tony’s tight ass, nipping lightly at the delicate skin leading to his goal before finally diving all in. He can’t use his hands, and Tony offers no help other than the wide spread angle of his knees, so Steve has to press his face fully in as he flicks his tongue around the edges of tightly clenched muscle that surrounds Tony’s hole.

Despite the stretch of the buttplug, Tony is still tight, his muscles clenching and fluttering as they instinctively struggle to adjust to the new lack of silicone continually keeping him open. The lube tastes nothing whatsoever like actual kiwis or strawberries, but it’s still a sweet, pleasant taste on Steve’s tongue as it mixes with the naturally salty flavor of Tony’s skin. Steve presses his face against Tony’s flesh eagerly, his tongue working it’s way in and out of Tony’s hole, curling around the clenched edges of muscle that squeeze around him. 

His ears are ringing with Tony’s encouraging moans, though the sound is distant as though coming at him through a tunnel around the rush of his own blood. His face is burning, his fair skin no doubt red from forehead to naval as his heart pumps frantically; the cock cage prevents the excess of blood from filling his cock like it wants to, and the result is an overwhelming rush all over the rest of his body. It’s like every single nerve ending in his body has been turned into a firecracker and struck with a match. He’s never in his life wanted anything so badly as he wants to bury himself as deep as he can into Tony’s hot body and fill him to the brim.

The onslaught of stimulation causes him to lose track of time. All he can do is apply himself to the task at hand, savoring every bit of Tony that he can reach and contenting himself with that until Tony is ready to give him more. He’s distantly aware that his face is wet with lube and spit from nose to chin but he no longer has the capacity to care, can no longer even grasp the concept of shame or embarrassment around the all consuming waves of want and need.

Finally, finally Tony grunts and pulls himself up, pulling away from Steve’s still working tongue. “Enough,” Tony says, and his voice sounds almost as wrecked as Steve feels. “Fuck, I need you so bad.”

Steve goes pliantly when Tony grabs him and reverses their positions. Tony all but throws Steve down on the bed and Steve’s body sprawls loosely, Steve far too gone for any sense of control. He can’t even bring himself to care how awkward it is to lay on his back with his arms trapped underneath him, all he can do is look up at Tony with adoration and anticipation. 

Tony doesn’t make him wait, not any more. As soon as Steve is flat on the bed, Tony reaches for the cock cage. He presses his thumb to the small sensitive divot at the top of the ring encircling the base of Steve’s cock and balls and the biometric lock pops open. Steve lets out an involuntary shout at the abrupt flood of blood into his cock taking him from forcibly flacid to engorged in seconds and the only thing that stops him from coming then and there is Tony hastily replacing the pressure of the ring with a tight grip of his hand around the base of Steve’s cock. Steve is pretty sure that he says several incredibly filthy things around a few iterations of Tony’s name and no small amount of begging, but there isn’t at present enough blood flow left in his brain to be certain. 

Tony makes soft soothing sounds that are entirely discordant with the way he’s smirking down at Steve, his free hand rubbing up and down Steve’s thigh as though that might somehow help to calm him down. “Not until you’re in me,” Tony says, the words immediately sending another shiver through Steve’s overstimulated body.

In reality, it can’t be more than a minute, but it feels like an eternity as Tony carefully shifts around to straddle Steve’s hips without releasing his grip on the base of Steve’s cock. Steve’s eyes are moving rapidly from Tony’s face down to the sight of Tony’s ass hovering just over his painfully engorged cock, unable to decide which is the better view. Tony’s eyes are sharp and glittering with anticipation; his tanned cheeks hide his flush marginally better than Steve’s much paler skin, but Steve can see it anyway. Tony’s teeth bite deeply into his lower lip, his eyes not quite closing in concentration as he braces himself and slowly - too fucking slowly - starts to lower himself down.

The first brush of Tony’s ass cheek against the head of Steve’s hypersensitive cock is agony, but then comes the tight, enveloping heat of Tony’s body and Steve feels as though he’s levitating entirely off of the bed. Tony lets go of his grip - both restraining and guiding - on Steve’s cock as soon as the head is securely past the tight ring of muscle around Tony’s hole and Steve’s orgasm hits almost immediately. 

He loses track of everything; of the bed, of Tony, of his own body, of time, of the fabric of reality. But when his vision clears - a minute or an eternity later, he has no idea - Tony is seated fully on his cock, his weight surprisingly grounding and reassuring across Steve’s hips. Tony is hunched forward slightly, breathing heavily with both hands braced on the broad expanse of Steve’s chest. Steve can see the muscles standing out in Tony’s thighs as he holds himself stretched over and around Steve, a few beads of sweat starting to drip down the length of Tony’s nose and he holds himself still, holds himself contained. Steve manages to scrounge up just enough presence of mind to worry for a few seconds that they hadn’t been careful enough, that Tony had taken him too fast or without enough lube. Despite the rest of his size, Steve’s cock had never been below average and it had received just as much of a size boost as the rest of him had thanks to the serum; far from minding, Tony has always delighted in the size and the challenge it represented - Tony’s words, Steve had decided not to comment on the phrasing at the time - but it does mean that they have to take extra precautions and it wouldn’t be the first time Tony had forgotten to be careful enough in his excitement.

Steve is considering pulling himself free of the tie keeping his arms behind his back, but before he can go through with it Tony lifts his face to meet Steve’s gaze and the expression of pure ecstasy evident in Tony’s expression is enough to dissipate all of Steve’s concerns. “Fuck, you’re so amazing,” Tony moans. He bends forward for a wet, desperate kiss; his skin is flushed hot enough to have even warmed the hard metal encasing his arc reactor as it brushes against Steve’s chest. Steve wants his hands, he wants to grip Tony’s face and hold him still so that the kiss never ends, but the best he can do is flex upward, chasing Tony’s lips and drawing him back in everytime Tony tries to pull back.

Steve is still hard inside of Tony - another gift of the serum, one that Tony loves to exploit perhaps more than anything else - and Tony, although hard and dripping, still hasn’t orgasmed at all yet. Tony starts to roll his hips in slow circles first, grinding down hard against Steve’s pelvis and no doubt milking his own prostate with Steve’s cock inside. Steve can hear the way Tony’s heart is pounding as though threatening to drive the arc reactor right out of his chest and Tony’s breathing is coming in harsh, greedy pants against Steve’s mouth. 

Tony isn’t holding himself any more, letting his weight rest fully against Steve’s chest, only the strength of his powerful thighs keeping him braced and providing the grinding motion of their hips. Instead, his hands find their way into Steve’s hair, callused fingers dragging through the short strands until he has enough gathered against his palms to grip tight and pull. Steve gasps instinctively, his head following Tony’s hand so that his neck is arched, leaving the column of his throat stretched and exposed - no doubt Tony’s intent, as Tony immediately digs his teeth into the thudding pulse point on the underside of Steve’s jaw. The pricks of pain from his pulled hair and the sharp dig of Tony’s teeth into his skin serve as a sharp contrast to the enveloping heat over Tony’s body and already the heat is pooling in the pit of Steve’s stomach again, his balls tightening as his hips thrust, jerky and instinctive, up to meet Tony’s grind.

“Please, Tony, please,” Steve hears himself say distantly. He doesn’t know what he’s actually asking for, and it doesn’t matter anyway because Tony is already giving it to him; everything Steve’s ever wanted, everything Steve’s never realized he  _ could _ want is being poured over and wrapped around him until Steve starts to lose track of where he ends and Tony begins.

Tony just hums, his mouth busy working bruises down the line of Steve’s neck - they’ll be gone by morning, no matter how deeply Tony bites, but the sensation of their creation is thrilling. It’s more than that, though, more than the physical stimulation of nerve endings and the drawing of blood to just under the surface of his skin. Tony is  _ marking _ Steve. Impermanent though it might be, right here right now, in this moment Tony is making overwhelmingly clear that Steve is  _ his _ , and it’s nearly that thought alone that pushes Steve into his next orgasm.

When he comes back this time Tony has moved onto to peppering his chest with soft kisses and tender licks, but in contrast Tony’s hips are working in earnest. If Steve lifts his head and turns it to the right angle he can just see the gap between his and Tony’s hips as Tony lifts up a few inches before driving back down, fucking himself on Steve’s massive cock repeatedly at a punishing rhythm.

Tony’s eyes flick up to Steve’s face and he smiles, drawing his tongue in a slow, rough slide over Steve’s right nipple. Steve makes a low whining sound, shivering, but his back arches off of the bed as though his body is instinctively asking for more. Tony plants his hands on Steve’s chest and pushes himself back upright in a way that sucks Steve’s cock somehow even deeper into Tony’s body. “Give me a color, babe,” Tony says, watching Steve’s face closely, though he evidently isn’t concerned enough to stop his steady up and down movements as he continues to fuck himself on Steve’s cock.

If Steve had had the energy he would have rolled his eyes. Instead he gives the expected - albeit choked and breathless - answer of, “green, so fucking green.”

Tony’s grin widens. “That’s my boy,” he murmurs. “How many more do you think you can give me?”

Steve does groan at that, his head rolling back against the pillows as he sucks in a few breaths of sweet, desperately needed air. “Fuck, Tony, I don’t know,” he says, honestly. Not that it matters, because he knows Tony is going to wring every last drop out of him and then keep going; that is, after all, the promise Tony had made when he’d put the cock cage on Steve a week ago.

“Don’t tell me you’re worn out already,” Tony says, and it doesn’t matter that Steve knows Tony is goading him because it’s working, damnit. It doesn’t help that Tony coordinates his words with a particularly sinful roll of his hips. “Come on, baby, I know you’ve got more than this. Give it to me.”

It’s as though Steve had just been waiting for Tony’s command. Blood surges through his body and the muscles of his core contract to pull him up off of the bed. Tony, anticipating the movement, goes with him readily and in one swift motion their positions are reversed, Tony flat on his back while Steve towers over him. Tony lifts his legs up to drape them over Steve’s shoulders, compensating for Steve’s lack of hands by using the leverage to lift his hips off of the bed and give Steve a better angle to thrust into.

Steve muscles are already burning a little, but he doesn’t care as he plants his knees firmly in the mattress and bends over Tony. He thrusts hard - always mindful of his inhuman strength, but by now well familiar with exactly how much force Tony not only can handle but how much Tony  _ wants _ . Tony has to lift his arms over his head and grab onto the headboard to brace himself against Steve’s thrusts as Steve drives into him over and over again, the slick slide of well lubed flesh against flesh filling the room along with their combined grunts and harsh breathing. Tony is voicing his approval of Steve’s actions in a tone approaching a shout, his head thrown back but his eyes open to watch Steve’s face avidly.

In this new position, with more control over their pace and rhythm, it doesn’t take long for Steve to be hit by another orgasm. His hips studder and jerk with the force of it, but he doesn’t stop, Tony’s heels digging into his back and urging him on. With each time that Steve orgasms Tony is becoming wetter, Steve’s own fluid serving to aid him as he presses onward.

Tony’s cries start to take on a distinctively desperate tone, his eyes screwing shut in concentration. But Tony hates to “lose” at anything, and he lets go of the headboard with one hand so that he can reach down and grip the base of his own cock, staving off his impending orgasm even as he bears down harder, clenching tight around Steve. “Give me another,” Tony says, his voice low and heavy with command, his pupils gone so wide and dark with lust that his eyes are nearly entirely black.

Steve swears enthusiastically, pressing his face into the soft skin of Tony’s inner thigh. They’re both slick with sweat all over by now, but Steve doesn’t care, running his nose along the bend of Tony’s knee as he licks at the salty liquid and presses open mouthed kisses to Tony’s skin. Steve hadn’t thought he’d be able to orgasm again quite so quickly - his first several orgasms have worked off a lot of the pent up desperation that his week of force celibacy had created - but the dark, hungry tone in Tony’s voice tugs at something low in the pit of Steve’s stomach and the wave crashes over him once again, hard enough that he has to double over and rest his forehead against Tony’s stomach to keep from losing his balance completely and falling over. A litany of curses and begging and praise falls from his lips in a jumbled mess and he’s sure he must really be finished this time.

As soon as he has his balance enough to straighten up again he can’t resist looking down, watching in mesmerized fascination as Tony’s body continues to open up and swallow him down. It looks almost wrong, how widely Tony is able to open up to allow Steve in, the way his hole is red and stretched around Steve’s girth. Each time Steve withdraws partially out in order to thrust back in a little bit of creamy white cum dribbles out onto the sheets beneath Tony, creating a streaked trail between Tony’s ass cheeks. Steve is overwhelmed by the sight of it, by the knowledge that Tony is stuffed full of  _ him _ to the point of leaking and yet still wants more. And Steve wants to give it to him, to give Tony anything and everything he wants, to keep Tony satisfied and full to the brim.

But as willing as Steve is, even his serum-enhanced body can only be pushed so far. He feels wrung dry, the hot clench of Tony around him beginning to border on painful. The stimulation is still enough to keep him hard, his cock not quite ready to give in yet, but he knows he won’t be able to keep it up much longer.

Tony knows too; Tony always knows exactly where Steve’s limits are and he drops his legs from around Steve’s shoulders. He shifts, clenching around Steve to prevent his cock from slipping out as Tony sits upright and adjusts their positions again. “Easy,” Tony murmurs, preempting Steve’s strangled sound of protest at the chain of sensations that accompany Tony’s movements. “Nearly there.” He grips Steve’s shoulders, pushing him back until Steve sits down on his haunches and then lets his legs slide out from under him to stretch out over the side of the bed. 

Steve groans, the stretch of his cramped and sore leg muscles adding just another layer to the already exhausting feedback his body is giving him. He let’s Tony manipulate him, moving in tandem with Tony until he’s perched on the edge of the bed and Tony is back in his lap. Tony doesn’t let him lay back against the bed, even though Steve’s muscles feel like jelly and his head is swimming just a little. Instead Tony keeps his arms tight around Steve’s shoulders, pressing their chests together and holding Steve close. Tony’s hands rub slow, soothing circles into the taut muscles of Steve’s shoulders and back. He presses kisses to the corner of Steve’s mouth, soft and chaste in contrast with the way his ass is still clenching around Steve’s cock.

“You doing so good,” Tony praises, his voice gone low and soft.

It affects Steve more than maybe it should, but has exactly the affect Tony intended. Steve melts against Tony, letting his face drop into the hollow of Tony’s neck. He takes several deep breaths, reveling in the salty sweet scent of Tony’s skin and the supportive strength of Tony’s body pressed against him.   
  
“I need one more from you,” Tony murmurs, trailing kisses from Steve’s temple to his ear, the words quiet like a secret even though the room is empty around them. Steve groans in half hearted complaint, but Tony’s arms tighten against him, holding him in place. “You can do it,” Tony says, and it isn’t a request or even an affirmation. It’s simply a statement of fact. Steve can do it, and he will, because Tony told him to.

He takes a deep shaky breath and nods, not lifting his face from the comfort of Tony’s shoulder yet. His fingers flex and curl unto fists reflexively, but he still keeps his arms obediently folded behind his back and bound by Tony’s tie. 

Tony doesn’t rush him. Even though Tony must be desperate for his own orgasm by now, he’s gone slow and gentle, his touches soothing and coaxing as he draws Steve toward one last orgasm. Tony has his feet planted firmly on the bed just behind Steve’s hips, allowing him to rock back and forth on Steve’s cock in a slow, rhythmic pattern. One of Tony’s hands glides down the length of Steve’s arm to find his hand and tangle their fingers together, the other gripping Steve’s shoulder tightly to keep both of them braced and supported. “Look at me,” Tony commands and Steve does.

It’s almost hard to meet Tony’s eyes and Steve doesn’t know why, just that he suddenly feels unaccountably shy. The desperation and frenzy of earlier has dissipated, Tony’s coaxing turning the energy of the room into something soft and intimate as he presses their chests together and steals a slow, deep kiss from Steve’s lips.

“I love you,” Tony says, the words muffled and almost inaudible against Steve’s lips but Steve hears them all the same,  _ feels _ them right down to his bones. Tony doesn’t say those particular words out loud all that often, preferring to express the sentiment in other ways, and Steve’s fine with that, but it does make the rare occasion when Tony speaks them aloud all the more meaningful.

“I love you too,” Steve answers, meeting Tony’s gaze and holding it squarely. 

And that’s enough for both of them. With a soft cry Tony spills himself in several hot spurts onto Steve’s stomach, the shock waves of orgasm causing him to clench almost painfully tight around Steve and forcing one last orgasm out of him. Steve comes dry this time, the orgasm washing through him like the slow but inexorable rise of lava that starts in the pit of his stomach and erupts outward causing his every muscle to jerk and twitch as Tony clings to him.

When it’s over at long last Tony pulls himself off of Steve carefully with a slight wince and Steve falls bonelessly back against the mattress. Tony flops down beside him, neither of them able to summon enough energy to care that they’re laying the wrong way across the bed or that the sheets are a wet sticky mess. A deft twist of Steve’s arms and he undoes the knot of the tie restraining them so that he can pull Tony in close. He wraps his arms around Tony’s compact frame, dragging him closer until Tony is practically laying on top of Steve and he presses a soft kiss to Tony’s lips.

“That was a amazing,” Steve murmurs as soon as he can get his tongue to work and Tony huffs a soft laugh that is both an agreement and self-congratulation.

“Water,” Tony mumbles, his words muffled and slurred where his face is smashed into Steve’s pectoral. “Snacks. Drawer.”

“In a minute,” Steve promises, not because he can’t summon the strength to do what’s necessary to make sure that they can both sleep comfortably and safely, but because he can’t bear to let go of Tony quite yet.


End file.
